Small Moments That Change Everything (Vayeshev)

This week, in Parashat Vayeshev, we find Joseph lost, wandering in search of his brothers. It’s a moment so small you might miss it, but it’s one of the most extraordinary turning points in the entire Torah. Joseph meets an anonymous man—someone with no name, no backstory, and no future role in the narrative—who changes everything. The man simply asks, “What are you searching for? (Gen. 37:15)” And Joseph, utterly lost, answers, “I am searching for my brothers. (Gen. 37:16)” The man points him in the right direction, and the story moves forward.

Without this nameless stranger, the drama that follows—Joseph and the brothers, the pit, the coat, Egypt, redemption—would have ended right there. This person, who appears for a moment and then disappears forever, is the very hinge on which the story turns.

I thought about this recently as I stood near some trees, next to a trail with markers that pointed the way forward. Wherever we are, wherever we stand, there are moments like this. Sometimes we are Joseph, searching, feeling lost. And sometimes, we are the nameless stranger—guiding someone else, even unknowingly, toward what comes next. We don’t always know the impact of our words, our gestures, our presence. But isn’t it powerful to know that we can be the “pointers” along the way? That others, too, are placed in our lives to help us take the next step?

The trees remind us of this wisdom. If you ever forget how to pray, the tradition says, look to the trees. They know where the light can be found. They grow upward, always reaching, always pointing beyond themselves. The trees teach us how to stand tall, how to root deeply, and how to find our way.

And so, a blessing: Whenever we feel lost, may there be strangers who help us find our way. May we notice the signs—the trails, the trees, the quiet guidance of the world around us. May we be the strangers who bring light to others when they feel adrift.

And may we take good walks. Because sometimes, in a world heavy with heartbreak, walking through the trees is prayer itself. The heavens above us declare the need. The earth beneath us gives us strength. And the trails ahead remind us: we are not alone.